All Good Things
by Aidokime
Summary: All characters belong to Hasbro, and whatever subsidiaries that they come from. The only exception is Fulcrum. He belongs to someone else entirely. Standard disclamer. Ever wonder why Jazz didn't appear after Transformers the Movie, except for a brief


_(This story takes place shortly after the events of Transformers: The Movie, and Five Faces of Darkness)_

Autobot City: 09:30 GST

Occasionally, even in the age of great technological advances, a being can still get lostor delayed. Computers can work faster than the speed of thought, trace the shipment of a pallet of bananas across the country, but the airlines can still loose a simple suitcase in an airplane hangar. Of course the more advanced the technology, the greater the likelihood of a glitch causing things to get a little behind.

Rodimus Prime fervently hoped for the latter, as he reviewed part of the latest report from special ops. No sign of the Decepticon base of operations, from which they had been pulling off snatch and burn operations around Earth. No discernable pattern, no discernable direction. In short, the 'Cons were devastating (no pun intended) several cities, and making life difficult for everyone.

But that wasn't what had him worried.

One of the operatives hadn't made any of his scheduled check-in's, since last Thursday. A week ago. Normally this sort of thing wouldn't have concerned anyone, since most of the agents in that division tended to miss appointments when they had nothing to reportand since Earth in general wasn't considered a danger-zone, it wasn't required. This case brought that uneasy feeling in the midsection. In other words, Rodimus had a bad feeling about this, because of the identity of the missing agent.

Jazz.

Aroostook County, Maine. One week ago.

"_All around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces-_"

The soft presence of music was hard to detect if one was more than a few inches away from the black car. It had obviously seen better days– in fact, the paint looked as though someone had just taken a can of spray paint, and covered over rust patches first, then given it a light coat– which, if one got technical about it, was more of a matte gray. Not that the squirrels and moose were going to get picky about describing a color, or wonder about why an obviously expensive car was just sitting in the woods. Especially forest land that was this far out of the way.

"_...I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad, the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had–"_

A soft sigh emitted from somewhere inside the car. The only things moving in the woods these days were the wild animals– and not many of those. With a silenced creak, the car stood up– or more accurately, transformed, and within a few seconds, the badly painted black Porsche turned into a badly painted black robot.

Jazz shook his head, turning off the music as the last lonely piano note faded from his audials. He might turn it off, but the feeling still remained. Not only was he in the middle of nowhere, with his so-called solid lead turning into vapor trails, but he was pretty tired of having squirrels try making their nests in his engine block.

Tired.

That would be about half of it. Jazz had said goodbye to friends before– he'd been through some pretty bad times before. But this time it was starting to get to him. Things just hadn't been the same since Rodimus Prime had been in charge.

"Things just ain't the same without 'em." He murmured quietly, and took stock of the patch of bare rocks and trees that he'd been sitting in for the past two days. "So much for listenin' to rumors."

Then he heard it.

It started as a slow rustling of the leaves in the distance, and grew, as though something large were flying low over the trees– and the distinct odor of burning. Jazz ducked under the cover of the sparse giant pines, optic band tilted towards the patches of blue and white, as several familiar silhouettes crossed the forest, heading northwest, trembling the forest in their wake.

"Gotcha."

"Precisely." The echoing voice answered from somewhere off to his right– in the ravine that led from somewhere in the low slung mountains.

Jazz instinctively turned to see a large blue figure hovering out of the small, but deep, canyon. Soundwave. And he wasn't alone...

Autobot City: 10:00 GST

"Rodimus, we have a problem." The red and white security director burst into the command center where the Autobot leader still sat, knuckles tapping against the console as he started trying to get through Teletran 2's security and global positioning setup.

"Tell me about it," Rodimus Prime grumbled, as he hit something that accidentally brought forward a file about some remote abandoned human military complex. For the third time in an hour. "I can't get this thing to work properly."

"That is because someone has sabotaged it!" the exclamation was punctuated by a soft fritzing noise. Red Alert presumptiously pushed Rodimus aside, "The security codes have been triggered by an outside signal– _someone_ gave out the security codes!" He spun around, outrage spilling over.

That sinking feeling started to return– as did the beginnings of what a human would call a 'tension headache'.

"We have more problems than that," he told Red Alert. "We have a missing Special Ops agent in the field.–"

"Missing agent? Someone turned traitor, and informed the Decepticons of the security codes," Red Alert cleared out the system, and started the global positioning system network. Rodimus was pretty sure that the paranoiac was going to blow a circuit at any minute.

"Would Jazz really turn traitor?" he asked grimly. "After all these years, and especially after Optimus and the others..."

The silence was telling.

Teletran 2 gave a quiet beep as it finished processing the reported locations and emergency beacons active on Earth, and as Rodimus turned to look, the file that had been plaguing him for the past hour filled the monitor again.

Under Limestone AFB (abandoned): Five days ago

"Why are we wasting precious resources on that hunk of scrap?" Ravage paced the control center, splitting baleful glares between the black car casually tossed into the storage area- safely behind hastily formed energon barsand the imposing blue figure seated attentively at the communications console. "The longer we keep him here, the chance that they will find us-"

"Galvatron commands that we take this opportunity to obtain information." The melodious dualtone interrupted the mechanical panther's protests. Normally Ravage wouldn't question Soundwave in such a manner, however the proximity of the Autobot Spymaster, unconscious and disabled though he may be, could raise an understandable level of anxiety.

"Transmissions from Metroplex indicate that they know nothing of his location and from all indications, cannot find-"

"Their own backsides with a map and a searchlight" The unexpected answer, "Jus' like every other time that you listen to the open channels comin' straight outta Metroplex."

Ravage moved immediately to aim a thigh mounted missile at the suddenly grinning prisoner. Apparently he hadn't been as badly damaged as they'd been led to believe. He'd managed to transform silently while Ravage had been looking at Soundwave.

"You ain't gettin' a thing from me before they get here anyhow." Jazz looked rather relaxed for someone who was pinned, and looking down the barrel of a missile. Much more relaxed than someone who was about to be interrogated ought to be.

That smile brought a twinge of annoyance to Soundwave. Despite the chase and the beating that the Autobot had earned at the hands of the seekers on hand, the saboteur had kept up the jokes, the grinning, and the witty comments– even after there was no hope of his escaping. Annoyance itself was annoying– an emotion he could do without. There was, however something he could do about it.

Rising from the monitors, the communications officer touched the release catch on his chest compartment, and called for the most loyal of his 'children'.

"Laserbeak, Eject: Operation: Interrogation." As the tape ejected, transforming into the bird of prey, Soundwave noticed the prisoner's smile fade, with a certain amount of satisfaction. "Obtain and record."

The energon bars faded, and the tape moved in with a shrill squawk.

Outskirts of Detroit, Michigan: 10:00 GST

"Fall back, Hound– you can't do any more good here!" The green mech yelled. "Fall back!"

Hound considered, for a moment, ignoring Springer's yell– but the next missile detonating next to him made the decision easier.

"Right, Springer." he said, and fled towards the gates to the main road.

What went wrong? A simple recycling plant opening had turned into this– Hound braved a look back towards the fiery inferno that the plant had now turned into. All the humans had fled, thankfully, but if it hadn't been for Springer's last minute decision to accompany the Earth loving scout, the four Decepticon seekers would have ripped him apart along with the building. Instead they only ripped him halfway apart, he reflected with a twinge, as he nearly tripped over an ornamental piece near the end of the drive. Not that Soundwave wouldn't have been able to do the job by himself.

Picking himself up, he noted a familiar shadow creeping over the landscape, and neatly touching down in the empty parking lot in order to deposit the very welcome red and yellow blurs that headed immediately to the action. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. His transmission had made it through.

"You should have called for help," the shadow chided him, as it transformed, splitting into Sky Lynx's two separate components. "I would have been glad to come sooner, if you had only called me." The lynx charged after a pair of seekers who had made the mistake of staying on the ground, growling ferociously at the energy sickle that the dark green Decepticon carried. "It is a good thing that someone else was here to call for me."

Hound stared at Sky Lynx, "But I did—" was all he managed to say before the shuttle joined the lynx-form in menacing the multicolored jets.

Teletran 2 hadn't relayed his call for help? Why?

Hound turned back to see Springer swing a fist at the Decepticon communications commander– and Soundwave flying head over heels backwards from the force of the blow.

"...LYING..."

Hound caught the word over the excessive volumes of Sky Lynx baiting the seekers on the ground, and of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe yelling like a pair of banshees, riding black and red seekers like humans would ride a surfboard– trying to steer the jets into each other's wake. Springer, obviously angry, leaped towards where Soundwave had landed, still yelling, though now his words were muted.

Soundwave stood, ducking out of reach of the Autobot's range, and smoothly removed something from his hip compartment that stopped Springer in his tracks. Hound took a few steps back towards the plant, trying to see what it was that could stop Springer like that.

The big blue Decepticon let the thing fall from his hand deliberately, watching Springer's gaze follow it, watching the green Autobot bend down to pick it up. And aimed his shoulder cannon downwards, towards Springer's head. The glow of energy started to build up as time became a commodity that the Autobots had run out of.

Without a second thought, Hound transformed, and quickly fired his turret cannon at Soundwave, sending the shot wild- and hitting one of Sky Lynx's opponents. That was all it took for Springer to snap back– just in time to see the Soundwave fire a second shot straight towards Hound.

Hound had no chance to move before the energy hit him. The only comfort he took into the darkness with him, was Soundwave calling for a retreat.

Under Limestone AFB: Two days ago

Soundwave studied the semi-conscious wreck, still bound after the latest session with Laserbeak. No doubt Jazz would break soon, and the security codes and secrets would be open to him. No doubt that the moment would be one to savor– the satisfying screams, hopeful babbling, and then... the data. Ravage would be happy, once he was allowed to finish the prisoner off, of course– but until then, Laserbeak could have his fun.

The prisoner stirred feebly, and unaccountably grinned, as he realized that there was a shadow hovering just outside of the bars. Optical visor cracked in spiderweb patterns, face dented and gashed– and still he smiled. Jazz's 'helmet' cracked and lopsided from where Laserbeak had started his work, down to the minute circuit manipulations that Soundwave himself had worked out in order to keep Jazz in a constant level of pain without the release of full unconsciousness– and yet, with the faint and faded glow of optics behind the ruined protector the upwards curving of the mouth, split and bleeding as though this situation were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Irritating. Most irritating.

"Toldja..." the voice was almost too quiet to hear. "Ain't gettin' a thing..."

"You underestimate Laserbeak's determination, Autobot. Or your own strength." he answered, frowning behind his facemask. Unmistakable defiance. At this stage, he shouldn't be defiant. With a sharp motion, Soundwave turned off the energy bars, and stepped closer to the Autobot. "Perhaps," He harmonized, "it is time for my involvement."

"You've already been involved. Ain't gonna make a difference." The retort came, "So why dontcha give up already."

Irritation flooded his emotional circuits. And curiosity.

Cobra swift, Soundwave reached for Jazz's face, grasping the very thing that bothered him, the thing keeping him from judging the Autobot's true reactions.

"No–"

The gasp had a sort of despair behind it, giving confirmation to the communications specialist's guess. Then, with the a deliberate carelessness, Soundwave ripped the shattered visor out of its setting, nearly crushing it as he did so.

Golden optics dimmed and half shuttered against the unfiltered light stared up at him, defiance starting to leak away. With one simple gesture, one motion, Soundwave had started the erosion...

The smile still crooked one corner of the mouth, but there was fear behind it now.

"Now," he intoned, looking down at the now motionless Autobot. "Let us talk."

Autobot City: 10:30 GST

"The infestation is widespread, Rodimus, it has compromised the communications network relay." The security director keyed a few more commands into Teletran 2's main console. "A few schedules have been accessed with Jazz's set of keys, and the communications relay can easily be reset– "

"No real harm done then?" Rodimus asked, ignoring the sudden burst of noise from the corridor, as the abandoned military base file found its way onto the screen again. "Did you find out what's causing that file error?"

"...Have to talk to Rodimus, NOW..." Springer's acerbic tones echoed into the command center, as a softer voice– Arcee, most likely– tried to say something, as he burst into the room.

And Rodimus could see why Arcee was following him. The green mech had obviously seen a fight– he was heavily scorched, and dented. The pink femme tried putting a hand on Springer's shoulder.

"Springer, you can talk to Rodimus /after/ you see First Aid."

The wrecker shrugged off the hand. "This is more important– and Hound needs more attention than I do right now."

"Then talk, already." Arcee folded her arms across her chest.

"Hound?" Rodimus asked, giving Red Alert a glance. "Wasn't he supposed to be doing that recycling plant thing today?"

The security director's optics were almost wide enough to pop out of his head. Now that would be amusing. If it didn't mean what he thought it did. Which, from that reaction, meant that it was one of the accessed files. Tension headache. Check. Sickening feeling. Check.

"I tagged along." Springer answered, "And it's a good thing that I did– Soundwave and the goon squad showed up." He frowned. "Hound's in a bad way, or we would have tried to follow them back to wherever they're holed up." He paused, tossing something onto the console next to the monitor– a chunk of clear blue coming loose and bouncing off of the floor.

"What–" Arcee gaped, taking a step forward to get a better look.

"He gave me that as a parting gift, just before he shot Hound."

Rodimus stared at the familiar blue visor with open mouth and a dawning realization that the sinking feeling was absolutely right. And the nagging desire to know– did Optimus ever have to deal with this, and how did he get beyond these sudden, almost paralyzing realizations.

"You wanna explain why he said that Jazz was giving him all the information that he needed to take us down?"

"Jazz," Rodimus started, "Is–"

Teletran 2 chose to beep at that moment, alerting them to yet another appearance of the file. Rodimus chose to ignore it, while Red Alert started frantically trying something new.

"Missing." Rodimus continued, "For about a week now. Teletran 2's security has been breeched. We didn't find out until about an hour ago–"

"Rodimus!" An excited fritzing behind the Autobot leader grabbed everyone's attention. "I have it! A solution!" Red Alert was looking at something, which to Rodimus, looked like a bunch of jumbled characters. "This is something that was set up to trigger if a certain key code was used remotely. It will show up every time that a certain keyword is used."

"You're worried about a keyword when you don't even know where the most experienced special ops agent is?" Springer asked incredulously. "You don't even have a clue about where he was going, or what he was doing? "

"Springer," Arcee put her hand back on Springer's arm, and pointed at the screen, where Red Alert was magnifying a couple of maps. "I think Jazz left us a map."

Rodimus stared at her for a moment. He'd been looking for information on Jazz for an hour, and the answer had been staring at him. The Autobot leader spun, and hit the City broadcast switch.

"Every combat ready Autobot report to the command center." he announced. "We've got a Decepticon base to strike."

Under Limestone AFB: This Morning

Naked.

Alone.

Broken.

He had to face it; no one was coming to rescue him. No one knew where he was– because he'd been too busy brooding over his losses. There'd been no hope before, when his city fell, and he'd been trapped beneath the spires, watching his home and most of his friends turn into so much scrap metal. None. Until a trio of Autobots, including Optimus Prime had finally broken through, driven away the attackers, and taken Jazz away to be repaired, and ultimately find a new home with the Autobots of Iacon.

There was no chance of a repeat here. Optimus was dead. Prowl and Wheeljack were dead.

And yet he could still hear them asking him if he was going to give up now, when there was so much left undone. Jazz had been living in the past– getting lost there, rather than moving on. He'd taken too much time to mourn.

Dim and exposed to the harsh light of the Decepticon base, his gold optics remained dulled as they had since Soundwave had finally pried the answers from Jazz; it had taken hours for the last bit of his resistance to be worn away. Hours that he never wanted to think about again. After, he had been tossed back into his prison– literally– hitting the back wall, and sliding to the floor, arms still bound behind his back.

Dull gold watched as the pass-codes were used to trigger programs, and access data that could be usedto plan to systematically destroy the security of the humans. To destroy those who understood them best. To cut off the Autobots from their allies. Soundwave chose the first target.

Hound.

The Autobot would be alone and vulnerable at a recycling plant opening.

A single spark of determination rekindled behind the dull gaze, and slowly, painfully, quietly, Jazz began to use all the skill he could to break his hands free. He couldn't let this happen– it was up to him to stop it. A plan formed in his exhausted mind.

All he had to do now was wait.

Mid-morning.

Frenzy paced the command center, watching the seekers file out the door behind Soundwave. He muttered darkly, eying the energon prison. He loathed guard duty– especially when the prisoner wasn't even worth taunting anymore.

The only reason, he reflected, that he was doing this was that Soundwave had promised that the Autobot would be interrogated one last time, and then destroyed upon their return. And Frenzy would be allowed to help. Frenzy liked the sound of that. It was almost enough to make up for missing out on the slaughter. He liked the sound of slaughter a whole lot more than the sound that ... was coming from the prisoner. He his gaze turned towards the cage.

"_...I won't lie to ya, never gonna cry to ya ..._"

Singing?

Curiosity piqued, Frenzy Stalked back to the doorway to glare at the prisoner. Who continued to stare blankly at him, softly vocalizing that irritating song.

"Be quiet!" he growled, punching between the bars to make his point. But Jazz was too far inside for him to properly hit.

"_... gonna live while I'm alive, and sleep when I'm dead..."_

The prisoner wasn't obeying.

"I said, stop that." With a glare, and a glower, he punched the button to turn off the energon bars. He knew better than to cross Soundwave, but the irritable tape wasn't about to sit there and listen to the NOISE for the entire time that the commander was away. Not when he could simply go in and shut the noise off. Soundwave hadn't specified that Jazz be conscious upon his return.

Frenzy stomped over to the source of the irritating singing, preparing to use a pistol to menace the Autobot one last time before smacking the voice right out of him. It was almost a shame to hit a helpless, almost lifeless foe like this. More fun than stunning him from a distance though. And more satisfying.

Frenzy didn't even have time to howl in surprise at the sudden burst of life and awareness behind the golden optics, before he found a heavy arm around his neck, and his own stun-pistol pressed against his neck.

"You didn't say 'please'." he heard Jazz say, before the charge robbed him of awareness.

Skies over Central Maine: 11:15 GST

Looking out Sky Lynx's window at the sea of trees, Rodimus could almost understand how this base had gone unfound for so long. Aside from the islands of glacier carved rock formations, and the rare human settlement, this section of the country was pretty much a wilderness. Pretty, but deserted. He still wasn't sure how Jazz had made the connection– or why the Autobot Ops commander had not told anyone where he was going and what he was looking at.

"... the other thing that was odd about it was that it was logged about thirty minutes before the actual attack."

Rodimus pulled himself back from his thoughts, and turned to look at Arcee's unusually grim face next to him. She'd been saying something that he should probably have been listening to again.

"Huh?" He finally gave up on pretending that he'd been paying attention. She'd have figured it out anyhow. Arcee always knew.

"The call that Sky Lynx got about backing up Springer," Arcee explained patiently. "He wouldn't have made it in time to do any good if it had come any later. I don't know how Springer would have known to call"

"Actually, I never said it was Springer. I was actually surprised to see him there." The smooth baritone voice put in. "All he said was 'Hound needs help, grab the twins, and go to these coordinates'." Sky Lynx banked, changing his course to a little more northeasterly direction. "It was a very odd transmission– and neither Teletran 2, nor I could figure out how to confirm the order. So we just... how shall I say it– went with it."

Rodimus stared at Sky Lynx's console.

"Can you go any faster?"

"Of course–" Sky Lynx started to say.

"Do it-" Rodimus interrupted. "They'll be waiting for us."

Under Limestone AFB: Two Hours Ago

Instinct screamed at Jazz to just put as much distance between himself and the underground base as possible. His time was running low– it had taken him a lot longer than he'd expected to get from the 'cage' to the communications console, and find a way to send a tight beam transmission. It had also taken a lot more energy than he'd expected to subdue Frenzy– not that the tape had put up much of a struggle.

Jazz just wasn't at his prime anymore.

Leaning heavily on the console, he stared at the base schematics for another nanoclick, before pushing on. Fortunately, it didn't look as though there would be anyone to stop him, if he just drove out– there.

The map faded.

Alarmed, Jazz shook himself, and the screen faded back into focus. It wasn't an unreliable machine, or a Decepticon returning early. It was his own vision. He had to get out of there, and warn the Autobots about where the base was— and the plans that he'd over heard...

The realization that he might not be able to do it in person hit him at about the same time as the realization that the stabbing pain in his neural processors was starting to get worse. Doubling over, he coughed out some of the viscous fluid that had suddenly flooded an air intake filter.

"Aww... damn." Wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, he made his choice. An hour had just elapsed without his realizing it. He could hear Frenzy start to curse up a storm behind him. Jazz gave himself another twenty before the Seekers definitely returned.

A packet of data sent to Teletran, flagged, and as obvious as he could make it. From Jazz. With Love and Regards. He may be past his prime, but he sure hadn't lost his sense of humor.

Ten minutes. He wasn't going to go out without doing his best. Not without a little style.

Fingers found the edge of an access panel, and gave it a tug.

Seven minutes, a couple of pauses and singed fingers later, Jazz looked at the cage where the tape was now pacing the little confines of the closet. Frenzy had been yelling and growling at Jazz, while he was working on making the base computer start its own pyrotechnical show.

He grinned at the Decepticon, golden optics surging, as he felt one last burst of hope. He'd gotten out of places in under two minutes before. And maybe the Decepticons would be late...

"Time for me to not be here." The battered mech didn't hear the snarl of rage from Frenzy or the quiet buzzing of the proximity alarms– he was transforming, and racing towards the back exit to the base as fast as his damaged frame would go.

Over Limestone AFB: 11:30 GST

A red seeker flashed by Sky Lynx, strafing the shuttle with a burst of fire. As though that could hurt someone who regularly popped in and out of orbit.

"There appears to be smoke coming from the forest south of the landing strip." Sky Lynx announced, "I can set you down at the south end, but you will have to go in by yourselves. I cannot fit through those trees." The disgust that such a thing would get in his way was almost completely hidden.

"That's okay, Sky Lynx. If you could keep those seekers busy, we'd appreciate it." Rodimus, noting the presence of a black seeker joining the red one in the darkening sky. "We'll have enough on our hands finding the base." Or not, since the smoke just might lead them right to it.

Sky Lynx, true to his word, let the five Autobots out at the edge of the runway, and immediately took flight, daring and taunting the pair of seekers to follow him. Which, foolishly enough, they did. Rodimus shook his head, and hiked into the trees, laser pistol out and ready.

The smoke was coming from a ravine, Rodimus noted. A small one running from the mountains, off towards the plains.

"Spread out. Head east– I think we'll find the entrance where there's smoke." That was intelligent. Rodimus again wondered if that was tactically sound. He wished Springer were here to tell him if he was being an idiot or not.

A flash of violet caught his attention from somewhere along his side of the ravine. A dark green seeker had just ignited an energy sickle, and was swinging it down on a cable, attached to a grappling hook caught at the edge of the ravine. The malevolent bearded face (bearded?) was looking down over the edge at whatever the cable was holding up, and laughing.

Grappling hook.

Cable.

Optics widening in comprehension, Rodimus fired at the seeker, too late to stop the severing of the cable. It snapped, and the weight on the other end fell with a sickening crash of metal against rock.

The seeker's hand followed, still holding the activated blade. The seeker himself didn't fall, however. With a snarl, he jumped for the skies, transforming and running as he got clear of the trees. Vaguely Rodimus noted the presence of Soundwave following in a flurry of laser fire.

Rodimus was inclined to let them go– as he started to run for the place where the grappling hook still marked the edge, and looked over. It took all his self control not to just jump over the edge to get down there– instead calling to the others, and climbing down carefully.

By the time he got there, it was over.

Ravine near Limestone AFB: 30 minutes ago

As the dull gray Porsche hit the ravine, he realized he had a problem. There didn't seem to be any way out of the canyon that he could drive. Steep walls met him at every turn, and his suspension was getting an unnecessary workout from the rough terrain below. He'd have to climb out.

Still looking for the easiest spot to climb out, Jazz noticed his second problem. Decepticons on the horizon, and closing in. Jazz transformed and flattened himself in the shadows against the ravine wall. It might not be enough to fool them, but hopefully they were beaten up enough to be thinking of getting repaired, rather than worrying about a possible escaped prisoner. At least for the moment.

Not for the first time he found himself wishing for a few grenades, so that he could at least trap the Decepticons for a few minutes. If he could just rest for a moment, Jazz was sure that he could gather enough strength to get away. If only...

Time slipped irrevocably away as he waited. As soon as the hidden door closed behind the last of the singed and banged up seekers, he moved again. Jazz didn't have time to find a good place to climb out. He needed a hidden place. And a fast place. The pyrotechnical show would begin soon, and although he enjoyed fireworks, he didn't feel inclined to stick around for this show.

A pair of seekers reappeared after a few minutes, and took to the skies– looking for him, most likely. Jazz froze again next to the cliff as he watched them take off, and start a search pattern.

"Over-estimatin', Soundwave..." he chuckled softly, "Should be glad for once."

While the black and red seekers were on the far end of their pattern he moved along the trench, finding a likely spot.

"Haven't done this in a while..." he said to himself, testing his line for strength. "Hope I still have it."

Jazz had made it about halfway to the top of the ravine when the forest floor shook with a muffled explosion. Smoke started billowing from cracks and crevices around the door.

"Well at least somethin' went right." he commented, watching the door open again, and the other two seekers making a hasty exit. And then Soundwave, limping, and carrying at least one of his tapes in his arms.

It looked like Frenzy might have forgotten to tell Soundwave about Jazz taking his stun pistol. Or maybe he just didn't see Jazz linking it into the main computer, set to blow out a few of the major power couplings. He'd been too busy exercising his vocabulary of profanities.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Jazz smiled.

"The prisoner is still in the ravine, Fulcrum. Dispose of him."

"Aww... scrap." The smile slipped away, as Jazz started to haul himself up– a little more, and he'd be able to maybe fight back again. A little more. He stopped, suddenly finding the world to be not quite as solid as it should be.

The dark green seeker transformed as he flew back to land at the top, staring over the edge at Jazz. Waiting.

"Go away ya buzzard." He called at the seeker. A shadow crossed overhead, momentarily distracting Jazz from his climb. It looked as though Sky Lynx was fighting the red and black seekers. Things were turning out after all. That meant that even though gravity seemed to be increasing...

A familiar voice echoed through the trees.

"Optimus?" said Jazz, looking puzzled. The bearded seeker was sneering down at him, igniting a blade of some kind. "No... Rodimus..."

The purple energy blade seared through his cable, and he fell backwards into the ravine, and the world disappeared one last time.

Rodimus Prime stared at the body carelessly slung, like some giant's toy, at the foot of the ravine. The seeker's blade had come within inches of hitting the already abused chassis– fluids trickling from cracks and chinks in the armorhowever, the special ops commander's optics were dark and shuttered, and his body already turned a deep and mottled gray.

Rodimus knew the significance. He had seen death before. And now, it seemed, he was seeing it yet again. He shook his head, turning away.

Autobot City: Two Weeks Later

"I know I shoulda asked for backup 'fore I came, an' I'm payin' the price now." Jazz's words echoed from Teletran 2's command center station. "File's under 'Limestone AFB', wit' all the reasons for it t'be the right one. I'm makin' sure you look at it, cos'–" the mech paused to wipe a trickle of some dark fluids that were leaking from the corner of his mouth. "They're gonna try an' kill all the Autobots who got some affinity wit' the Terran people. An' maybe a few humans who get 'long with us. Straight from Soundwave on that 'un."

Rodimus Prime continued to watch sombrely, even though he knew what Jazz would say next– he had seen this recording several times in the past two weeks already.

"Jus' listen. Yer gonna be fine. Keep rememberin', Optimus didn't learn everything there was to know in an instant." The voice was strained, weary. Golden optics stared directly into the camera. "Don't worry 'bout what he'd have done. Worry 'bout what the Decepticons might be up to. It's past my time, but you... you gotta keep rollin' with the punches. Keep comin' back.. An' don't forget. Ya gotta rely on your allies– your friends. Universe is too cold, an' unforgivin' for ya not to have 'em there." The figure looked at something off of the screen, and the Autobot leader could hear the faint sounds of cursing in the background. "Time's almost up... Been an honor an' a privilege t'serve with all of ya."

As the screen went black, Rodimus could see a slender pink and white reflection in the monitor. He turned to find Arcee, waiting with a patient, but sad, smile.

"You ready to see him off?" Springer asked from the doorway, with an uncharacteristically subdued grin.

"It won't be the same without him."

Arcee shook her head.

"No... Things will never be the same."

Rodimus reflected on that all the way to the landing field, where a familiar figure separated from the shadows at the base of the shuttle to limp slowly towards them. Still stiff from the major repairs, but repainted properly white, with a new blue visor hiding a golden gaze, the Autobot looked just as Rodimus remembered seeing him the first time they'd met. But the ravine would always stick in his memory.

_Rodimus Prime knew the significance of the gray. Gray meant death. He turned away with a shake of his head, and a deep sigh. _

"_I'm sorry, Jazz."_

_A sudden quiet cough behind him made him look back._

"_Can't a body jus'" One golden optic was unshuttered and glowing softly in the ravaged face, "get a moment's peace?" Jazz groaned, falling unconscious again._

"We'll miss you, Jazz." Arcee said simply. "But don't ever scare us like that again."

"I'll miss you all too. And Earth– I'll be back again one day if I can." Jazz was smiling. He gave Arcee a wink. "Teaching won't be so bad. You can always come an' visit sometime."

Rodimus shook his head, finding the grin infectious.

"All the Autobots need to learn about Earth. You're just the person to teach them." Rodimus stepped back, and gave Jazz a salute. "'Till all are One, Jazz. We will see you before then."

Two fingers to the temple, Jazz returned the gesture.

"There's no way you're going to be getting rid of me that easily."


End file.
